


Broken Promises

by TheOnlyOneWhosBeenInLoveWithMe



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Famous Harry, I Don't Know Where This Is Going, I like kids ok, Louis Tomlinson is Not Part of One Direction, M/M, Multi, Paisley is cute, Single Parent Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:19:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlyOneWhosBeenInLoveWithMe/pseuds/TheOnlyOneWhosBeenInLoveWithMe
Summary: Single parents Louis manoeuvres his way through life with his 3 and a half year old daughter Paisley after his fianceé died during birth. Along the way comes a pair of dimples and long, curly hair and makes everything he does so much more complicated.





	1. A Christmas Carol

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is just a thing, okay? I don't know where this is going, and I certainly don't know where it came from, but I'm dying to write a kidfic and I did. And now I'm posting it. Aaaaaand I'm deffinitely going to regret this later.

All of the stars in the sky seemed to glitter just a little bit extra this particular night, the contrast of a dark blue sky behind making the small flecks of glowing orbs dance around the night sky like dancers practicing an intricate choreography. They all seemed to move yet they all stayed completely still, like pebbles scattered across winter ice, reflecting the lights shining from an ordinary Doncaster home, shadowy silhouettes moving inside the cramped suburban house. 

While the stars were calm and collected, like a picture in time, the inside of said house was not. The outside porch area was lined along the roofing with hanging lights shaped like ice blue icicles, a wreath was hung against the dark blue front door, sporting some funky plastic decorations shaped like Santa's and reindeers woven into the twigs. A small, red tabby cat propelled through the cat door directly below and disappeared into the night, leaving behind small paw prints in the deep snow, and a girl nearly broke down the door in order to get it back inside. 

"Phoebe, I told you to watch the bloody cat! She's never coming back now!" 

Johannah Deakin hurriedly placed down a large, roast turkey onto the decorated dinner table, oven mittens falling to the floor as she pushes at her smallest toddler twins to usher them out into the living room with the rest of their siblings, their excited giggles drowning out amongst the loud chatter from the family. A Christmas Carol was playing on the flat screen tv in the corner, and her oldest daughters, Fizzy and Lottie, were both sat in the couch watching, the oldest twins busy organizing the gifts underneath the tree. Lottie proceeded to throw a popcorn kernel at Daisy only to bark out fits of uncontrolled laughter when the younger girl glared at her and threw it back, yanking at the end of her mother's apron as she flitted past them. 

"Mum, Lottie's throwing food in the living room," she complains, and just as Johannah's about to turn to Lottie and lecture her once more about not throwing food, her eldest son enters the front door with his daughter in hand and a red tabby clutched against his chest. Johannah lets out a large, relieved sigh and goes to wrap her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. 

"I love you so much," she mumbles jokingly against his cheek and carefully lifts the cat out of his arms, urging the oldest twins to take her upstairs and entertain her there while she finished up all the cooking, to which the twins obliged and ran up the stairs with the cat and their colouring books. 

"It's alright, mum, you should've called me for help, yeah? I was home all morning with the munchkin eating cereal and watching SpongeBob," Louis grins at his mother and places a kiss to her cheek, kneeling down to help his daughter, Paisley, slip out of her jacket and kick her shoes off. She gives him a big smile, crooked baby teeth glistening in the hallway light as she runs off to play with the other kids, blonde pony tails bobbing atop her head as she joins Earnest and Doris in their concentrated Duplo building project. Louis proceeds to return to his car to get the rest of his stuff, including their overnight bags and a large, black plastic sack of wrapped Christmas gifts for tomorrow morning. With help from his oldest sister, they empty out the car and dump his stuff in his old bedroom, heading downstairs again to help their mum in the kitchen. 

As Louis enters, the smell of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and turkey hits him, and after placing a chaste kiss to his mother's cheek he carries the food into the dining area, placing it onto the navy-blue table cloth with ease. Ernest and Doris raced past him with Duplo figures in hand, making loud airplane noises as they manoeuvre through the dining room and towards the kitchen, and Lottie nearly trips over them as they pass her. With an angry huff and a quick straightening of her blouse, she flips her hair over her shoulder and calls them over, hooking her manicured fingers under their arms to lift them up. 

"Okay, you two, playtime's over," she lectures, sliding Doris into her high chair and fastening a pink, frilly bib around her neck just as Louis does the same to Ernest, his bib decorated with a smiling turtle in a sixpence. 

"Are they always this wild? They're never like this when I watch them," Louis muses, watching the toddlers wriggle in their seats and nearly knock their plates over, wild curls and chubby fingers all over the place as Johannah calls the rest of the family to the table. Paisley crawls into the seat next to Louis and smiles at her dad, his fingers carding through her messy ponytails to detangle the blonde strands, her head softly bumping against his palm. 

"God, no, they only seem to act like this whenever I stress. Coincidence, don't you think?" She smirks, ruffling Ernest's wild curls with her dainty, freshly manicured fingernails, watching as her daughters sit down at the head of the table. 

Louis gives his mother a careful smile before helping his daughter grab a serving of the turkey, the chatter picking up around the table just as fat, flurry snowflakes fall from the dark skies, covering the streets of Doncaster in a thick layer of white. Louis looked out the window and smiled to himself, finally settling down in his childhood home with his family for Christmas for the first time in years. 

~ 

Meanwhile, in Cheshire, Harry Styles speeds through the snow-covered streets in his bulky, black Range Rover, cursing to himself as the clock ticks 19:04 and he realises he's over an hour late to his mum's dinner party. His plane had been delayed due to the heavy snowfall in America, and when the blonde, ignorant Valley-girl at their gate finally spit her bright pink bubble gum into a nearby trashcan and informed them that their flight would leave in 30 minutes, Harry got so excited he spilled the last remains of his Starbucks order over his expensive silk shirt. He spent the entire flight shirtless and cold, curled up in a ball against the window seat with a fluffy blanket Liam had thrown him before take-off. 

But, now, as he drove towards the familiar brick walls of his childhood home, his ruined silk shirt and tangled curls couldn't hold back the excitement that buzzed through his veins. His mum had rung him two weeks ago to inform him that Christmas would be held at their house this year instead of at his aunt and uncle's, and Harry had to admit that, despite loving to celebrate Christmas at their house, home was always the best. The America leg of their tour had finished three weeks ago, and after spending a week aboard a cruise ship with the other boys and the crew, he finally found himself stuck in the ever so charming traffic through Manchester, other impatient people honking and rolling down their windows to shout profanities at one another. Harry leaned back and sighed heavily, taking one last look at his wristwatch before turning the radio on and cranking it up high, mellow Christmas songs distracting him from the other cars around him as he waits. 

~ 

Anne took one look at her daughter and smiled carefully, the two of them seated in the living room together with the tv muted and the Christmas tree sparkling, dressed in their finer clothing for Christmas Eve dinner. Gemma twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and sighed, peaking at her phone every now and then as they waited for the familiar sound of tires scraping against the slippery ice in the driveway. She had tried phoning Harry several times while Anne made dinner for them, and when she finally gave up she settled for Facetiming her boyfriend, complaining that her brother was a knob head and that the food would go cold. He'd only calmed her down and wished them all a happy Christmas before they hung up, and just as Gemma went to ring Harry once more, the familiar set of headlights shone through the sheer, white curtains in their living room. She grinned and got up, unlocking the door just in time for her brother to burst through it, his shirt a mess and his hair tangled in messy knots on his head. He had a large bag thrown over his shoulder and a suitcase in hand, but he still managed to throw his arms around her neck and pull her close, and she hugged him tightly back when he whispered a quiet 'sorry' against her hair. 

"Thought you'd crashed and died, you dimwit," she mumbles against his neck, breathing in the scent of him and landing a quick peck to his cheek, helping him relieve the pressure on his sore back by grabbing the bag, the contents rustling around inside. She looks at him confusedly, and the wide, dimpled grin he gave her made her chest ache with relief that he was finally home. 

"Presents," he explained, unzipping the bag for Gemma to have a look, "I wrapped them all myself." The pride on his face was evident, and she bumped his shoulder playfully and started arranging them underneath the tree while he kicked his shoes off. Anne had retreated back to the kitchen to tend to the food, and the excited squeal she let out when Harry wrapped his arms around her from behind and squeezed her tightly made Gemma laugh to herself. 

"Harry Edward Styles, I was worried sick!" She tuts, chucking her oven mittens onto the kitchen counter before grabbing his face tightly between her slender fingers, smiling widely at her son after four months apart. He leaned his head into her palm and smiled at her, and her thumb briefly swept over the deep crevice of his dimple before she pulled him down into a hug, she herself stood on her tiptoes. "I missed you so much, baby," Gemma heard her whisper, and Harry mumbled something inaudible back as he squeezed his mother tightly, kissing her cheek carefully. 

They helped their mother arrange the food on the decorated table top, and the three of them ate peacefully in the dim dining room, soft Christmas music emitting from a speaker system in the corner. Harry spent some time telling them about the tour and all the places he'd been, and after they cleared the table they all sat down in the living room to watch a Christmas movie together, Gemma squeezing herself against Harry's side with her head on his chest, her hand buried in the popcorn bowl throughout the movie. They all fell asleep halfway through the movie, Harry with his mouth hanging open and Gemma with her head in his lap, perched up on a red velvet pillow.


	2. Starbucks and Harry Styles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All beware, the update queen is back. Oh God, I can't actually believe it's been like, forever. Fucking hell, well, I hope you like this hahah. I'd be surprised if anyone reads this, good lord.

"Daddy! Daddy, daddy, you have to wake up! It's Christmas!" 

The shrill tone of his daughter's excited squeals managed to stir Louis awake as the clock ticked 08:45, her chubby hands squeezing at the flesh of his unshaved cheeks. Her hair was braided artfully into two long Dutch braids cascading down her back, a few of her unruly baby hairs escaping to curl around the soft features of her face. There were golden earrings attached to her earlobes and shiny substance covered her lips, and Louis groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his back, morning sun shining through his open window. 

"Did you play with Aunt Lottie again, Pase? What is this stuff, anyways," he mumbles as he rubs at the stickiness on her lips with the pads of his fingers, sighing disgustedly as the substance rubs all over his sheets and duvet. "Come on, you little rascal, into the bathroom we go." 

She lets out a loud, disappointed whine as he hoists her onto his hip and carries her to the bathroom, her feet kicking around wildly as she fights against his tight hold. Her hands keep pushing at his arms in a half-hearted attempt to escape, her lips pouty and red as he rubs a washcloth over them, her eyes trained angrily at her father. He manages to flash her a big smile and smack a wet kiss to her ruddy cheek, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin around her ear. She giggles and pushes at him, wrapping her arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly, "Silly, silly daddy," she reprimands him, her head resting on his shoulder as she watches them in the mirror, a wide smile on her face. She brings a hand up to rub at her nose quickly, and Louis can't help but to smile back at her as she blinks sleepily, her features softening as she relaxes against him. With a soft shake she springs back to life. 

"Hey, you can't fall asleep now, soldier!" She perks up, her eyes wide and attentive as Louis straightens his back and does a mock salute, a smile threatening to break his posture, eyes trained at his daughter in their reflection. In one fluid motion, he spins her around in his arms so they're face to face, noses brushing against each other. "We are on a Christmas mission! I need your full attention and focus, and the only thing I ask of you, soldier," he leans closer and places a kiss to her nose, his smile wide and affectionate, "Is for you to open as many presents as you can before the others wake up." 

His heart swelled at the excited look on her face, and she ran out of the bathroom at full speed as soon as he let her down, braided pigtails flying after her as she rounds the corner and thunders down the stairs. After fishing a pair of plaid, Christmas themed pyjama bottoms out of his suitcase and dressing himself in them, he follows his daughter downstairs, genuinely surprised to find it empty apart from Paisley's small form on the floor. Her legs are tucked under her body as she bends down to reach underneath the tree, her braids catching the pine needles and dusting the soft green spikes across her shoulders and back, and Louis softly pokes at her thigh with his toe as he passes her to sit on the couch. 

"Why don't you open the one from Auntie Eleanor, yeah?" He leans forward in his seat and points out the large, squared gift wrapped in shiny, green wrapping paper with silver stars painted on. "The green one, babe, right behind- yeah, there you go." He grins at her and watches the excitement in her eyes at the sight of the large box, her little, chubby fingers making quick work of the paper. Green specks of cheap dollar store wrapping paper flies around the room and lands on the soft, beige carpet of his childhood home, and he whips his phone out and starts recording her just in time for her loud gasp to flow through the speakers of his phone. She whips her head around and settles her wide eyes on her dad, hands frozen and wrapped tightly around the crushed paper. 

"Daddy, it's the My Little Pony castle!" She shrieks moments later, her small body nearly vibrating with excitement as she dances around the heavy cardboard box on the floor, her pyjamas nearly sliding off her slim hips in the process. "I got the castle! I got the castle! Oh, daddy, I love you!" She sing-songs, throwing her arms around his legs to squeeze him tightly, hair flopping everywhere as one of her braids comes lose. Louis lets out a surprised laugh and presses his hand to the back of her neck, the skin soft and warm under his palm as she nuzzles her nose against his kneecap and sighs happily. 

"What are you thanking me for, monster? You gotta thank El, she's the nice one," he reminds her, dragging his fingers through the remaining loops of her braid to untangle it, watching her hair fall in little waves down her back. She straightens up and peaks into the camera on his phone, giving a toothy grin and a quick kiss. 

"Thank you, Auntie Eleanor. I love you." 

Louis smiles warmly at his daughter and ends the video, quickly sending it to Eleanor via their Messenger conversation, followed by a few animal stickers with a lot of glitter and Christmas wishes attached to them. She responded with two large hearts and a sticker of a Dalmatian hugging a large, fluffy heart with 'I love you' etched on the front. Louis slid his phone into his pocket. 

"Okay, how about we wake up the others, yeah? I'm sure they want some presents, too." He suggests then, sending his daughter on a trusty mission to wake the whole house while he himself started making coffee for his mum and sisters, knowing very well that Lottie needed her coffee more than anything in the morning. While he spoons the crushed beans into the coffee machine and pours some water into the mix, his mother sidles into the kitchen with her pale pink silk robe wrapped around her, hair falling in a floppy mess across her forehead. He offers her a small smile and leans over to kiss her cheek, her warmth and smell making him curl closer to her. 

"Merry Christmas, mum." He mumbles against her cheek, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as the coffee machine beeps to announce its start, green light blinking as steam erupts from the top and heavy, dark liquid splashes into the mug. "Are the girls up yet?" 

She shakes her head no, timidly smiling at him as she starts retrieving plates from the cupboards, quickly counting ten of them before placing them on the counter, grabbing some glasses as well. "No, last I checked they were all asleep." A loud thud can be heard upstairs, followed by Lottie's annoyed grunt and Paisley's loud giggling. Jay gives Louis an amused smile and shrugs, carrying the plates and glasses into the dining room. "Well, not so much anymore." She looks at Louis over her shoulder, his lithe frame flitting around the kitchen to pop some bread rolls in the oven and fill up a large tray with sausages, some leftover boiled eggs and a variety of cured meats. "When does your flight leave?" 

Louis gives her a quick, apologetic smile, bumping his hip into a grumpy, snuffling Lottie as she enters the kitchen, wrapped up in a large, baby blue robe, her platinum hair pulled into a large, messy bun on her head. She pushes him away and goes straight for the coffee, pouring a large teacup full of it and adding a dash of milk, stirring it whilst staring at her brother expectantly. Louis chews his bottom lip in thought and carries the tray of food into the dining area, carefully spreading it around the large table. "Around 6, so I should be there a bit early. My neighbour, Nick, wanted me to buy some cigarettes and stuff for him so I'll need some time at the Duty Free." 

Lottie seems deep in thought as she sips her coffee, her bright blue eyes trained on the tiled kitchen floor as Jay grabs juice from the fridge, kissing Phoebe and Daisy's foreheads as they make their way into the dining room, their hair still neatly braided from last night, and Louis takes a moment to rub each their heads. They let out annoyed yells and swats his hands away, giving him equally adorable death glares as they slip into their seats. 

"Are you sure Eleanor is okay with watching Paisley for a whole week? I mean, a toddler is a lot of responsibility," Lottie places her cup down at her seat and props her hands on her hips, watching Louis help Paisley into her chair and pour her a glass of apple juice, smoothing a hand over her head with a distant smile on his face. "You'll be, like, in America. It's not like she can change her mind." 

Louis rolls his eyes at his sister and smiles at her, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek just as Dan makes his way down the stairs with Ernest and Doris in his arms, Fizzy right behind him in her leopard printed pyjamas. "I know, Lotts, but Eleanor will be fine. She'll take her to kindergarten in the mornings and pick her up after her shift, and she can cook like a fucking pro," Jay slaps his arm and scolds him quickly for his language, to which he apologizes sheepishly, "She'll be fine, yeah? If not, you lot are only a couple of hours away by train, so it's cool." Louis takes his seat next to Paisley and places a kiss to her head, helping her grab a small serving of sausages while she chats about her new castle, fat smearing across her face and into her long hair as she explains why it sparkles, and how the bathtub has magic powers that help the ponies fight evil villains. Louis nods along to what she's saying, catching Lottie's amused smile across the table as he swallows down a mouthful of eggs and sausage, Paisley continuing her conversation with Fizzy across the table. 

~ 

"Oh, darling, are you sure you can't stay just a few more days?" 

Louis shoots his mother a sad smile where she's looking at him in the mirror, his fingers tugging vigorously at his black tie. He was already running late, and with a quick glance at his wrist watch he tugged on his long, wool trench coat and looped a knitted scarf around his neck, making sure his car keys were still in his pocket before kissing Jay's cheek. "I love you, okay? I wish I could stay, but this is really important." 

She nods understandingly, watching him tug his carry on out the door and down the driveway, Lottie's platinum head of hair emerging as she helps Paisley into her seat, fastening her belt and landing a kiss to her forehead. She gives Louis a hug as well before waving after the car, watching it speed down the road towards Heathrow. 

~ 

"Did you bring everything, baby? Where's your passport?" Harry can't help but roll his eyes amusedly as his mother flits around and about, rummaging through the drawers of his nightstand loudly. She's crouched over on the floor, her dark hair flopping over her face as she feels around the wooden drawers for the familiar shape of his passport, but to no avail. Harry raises his eyebrows and runs his hands over the fabric of his leather Blouson, the square shape of his passport secured safely within his pocket. 

"Mum, I already told you it's fine. I have it," she whips her head around and looks up at him under the fringe of her sharp bangs, her lips pursed tightly and her eyes swollen with unshed tears. He tuts softly and tugs her to his chest with a tight grip on her wrist, smoothing down her thick, coarse hair with the pads of his fingers. "Mum, please..." She hiccups against his shoulder and wraps him up in her arms, "I promise I'll be home soon. It's a six-month tour, yeah? It'll fly by in no time." 

He can feel her nod against his chest, his lips brushing over her forehead briefly before pulling back, the pads of his thumbs wiping at her wet cheeks. She flashes him a small smile and sniffles, straightening her freshly ironed blouse and pushing her hair over her shoulder. 

"Promise me you'll call every night, and don't do drugs!" Her finger is straight and motherly as it pokes his nose, a wide smile curling across his face at her tone. "If I find out you and those rascal boys have been up to no good, then so help me God I will take the next plane over and slap you silly. You got it?" Her tone wavers, a smile breaking through her strict façade as she grabs his hands and gives them a tight squeeze, brushing a kiss to his dry knuckles. "I love you, baby." 

He gathers his bags and shoves them into the trunk of his car a few minutes later, double checking the address where he would meet up with his drivers and hand over his car, and with a last kiss and tight hug to his mum and sister, he pulls out of the familiar driveway and head for Wolverhampton. He breaks every rule he ever made for himself by pulling his phone out and typing out a quick message to Liam, telling that he was on his way, to which he received a smiley face and a big thumbs-up. 

~ 

Louis kept glancing at his wristwatch every two seconds, the loud commotion around them making him tap the toe of his shoe against the linoleum floors of Heathrow Airport. Paisley's tiny head was covered in a large, baby pink beanie with a fluffy ball attached to the end, and he could feel her shuffling closer to cup her hands around his leg, pressing her face into the meat of his thigh. He slid a hand down to stroke over a lose strand of hair curling around her face, and she smiled up at him with her crooked teeth. 

"When's Auntie Eleanor coming?" She asks, bumping into his side as a tall man in a tight fitted suit pushes past them, weekend bag in hand and earpiece muffling the noise around him as he makes his way to his gate. Louis glares after him and sinks down to one knee to place a kiss to his daughter's cheek. 

"She'll be here any moment now, love, don’t worry," he admires the profile of Paisley's face as she looks towards the entrance, raising to her tiptoes to peek between the heavy crowds of people. Louis gets back on his feet and checks his phone for any messages. "She's probably stuck in some traffic, yeah?" Paisley nods along to his encouragements, and she squeals in delight when Louis suggests they go get some hot chocolates at the nearby Starbucks. He sends a text to Eleanor to inform her of it. 

To no one's surprise, Paisley orders the largest cup of hot chocolate she could fit in her tiny hands. It's topped off by a mountain of whipped cream, and when she gulps down her first proper sip it stains her top lip white and sugary, her pink tongue skimming over the skin to lap up the sweetness. 

"Daddy, Daddy! Look!" She goes to do a large twirl with her cup in hand, her white tool skirt swishing around her short legs as she giggles loudly. However, she doesn't register the large family passing by her, and when a suitcase rolls past her and catches on her shoelace, Louis feels like the world around him stops. He can barely make out his daughter, only a few feet away from him, topple over with her drink still in hand, and just as the lid of the cup pops up, there's a large, tattooed hand grabbing onto her arm and yanking her away. Louis watches the hot liquid spill all over the floors, strangers around them stopping to watch everything go down. 

"Paisley!" Louis yells, drink long forgotten as he rushes over to his daughter to wrap his arms around her, watching the tears build in her eyes as she looks at all the people gathering around them. Her small hands grasp onto his coat and snot gathers at the neckline of his freshly ironed shirt, and he realises she's crying. 

"No, baby, there's no need to cry, okay?" He kisses her forehead and smooths down the back of her hair, her beanie slipping across her forehead and messing with her soft bangs. "It was an accident. Accidents happen, remember? You know that." She nods feverishly against his shoulder and wipes at her nose, watching with sad eyes as a cleaning lady starts cleaning her hot chocolate with whipped cream off the floors. "I'm sorry, Daddy." She mumbles, and Louis tuts as he kisses her cheek. It seems to calm her down a little bit. 

"Would you like another one, miss?" 

The two of them look up at the sound of a deep, rumbling voice, and Louis can make out the silhouette of a man leaning over them, his tall frame illuminated by the bright airport lights. He appears to be wearing a large beanie over his nest of curls, and underneath his ugly grandpa jacket was a polka dot button up shoved into a pair of sophisticated looking tailored trousers, a large belt keeping them secure at his narrow waist. He offered Paisley a soft smile and tilted his head at her, nodding at her spilt drink. "I'll get you a brand new one, yeah? Extra whipped cream this time." 

Her eyes sparkle at the mention of whipped cream, and she yanks carefully at Louis sleeve to drag his attention down to her, eyes large and pleading. 

"Please, Daddy, can I have another? I promise I won't spill it!" Her puffy lips slip into a heart melting pout, and no matter how much Louis tried he could never resist her. He smiled at her and ruffled his fingers through the fluffy ball atop her head, making her giggle. Her bright blue eyes peered at him, surrounded by her short but curled lashes, and he couldn't help but to lean down to plant a loving kiss to her cheek. 

"Of course, Princess." His eyes flicker back to the stranger, who appeared to be accompanied by a large group of mysterious looking men clad in dark suits. "Thank you. Kids, you know? You look away for two seconds..." He trails off with a soft laugh, reaching his dainty hand out for the stranger to shake. "I'm Louis, it's lovely to meet you." When their hands went to shake, the men seemed to grow impatient and irritated. 

He struggles not to melt into a puddle on the floor when those tattooed fingers that had saved his daughter from serious burns wrapped around his hand and squeezed, hand nearly twice as large as Louis'. There was a flash of deep cut dimples and emerald eyes surrounded by curly lashes, and Louis felt his stomach flutter. 

"It was no problem, really. She's absolutely adorable," he doesn't let go of Louis hand, opts to join in a second hand to pat Louis' wrist, "I'm Harry." 

Paisley peeks at him curiously and cocks her head, and when he sinks down to her level to reach his hand out, a soft red hue rises on her cheeks and the tips of her ears. She allows him to cup her small hand and plant a kiss to it, his eyes filled with amusement as she blushes heavily and digs her face into her father's thigh, her rogue curled locks flopping to cover her face. In the blink of an eye, Harry has gained the attention of the barista and ordered another hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and some chocolate sauce and sprinkles, and Louis swears that his heart swells as Paisley, his normally shy and quiet child, sidles over to his side and wraps a soft hand around his thigh, waiting in line for her drink. Harry says something to her that Louis can't hear but judging by the reaction Paisley gives him it's absolutely hilarious, and her small fingers dig into the space behind his right kneecap, her head leaning against the defined muscles of his thighs. Even beneath the restriction of a pair of sinfully tight jeans, Louis can see the defined line of his strong muscles, and his crotch decides it's a good time to come to life. Dear Lord. 

"Paisley?" The barista reads out on the familiar cup, a wide smile on her face as she leans across the counter to hand her drink over, and Paisley's quick to grab it and head back over to Louis, her smile wide and toothy. Her baby teeth were barely short stumps lined along her gums, and she only reached Louis to about mid-thigh, but in that moment, Louis felt like his baby was growing way too fast, and he couldn't help but to sigh softly as she sloppily sips her drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he could barely make out the barista shamefully asking Harry for a picture, and he frowned to himself as Harry wrapped an arm tightly around her and pressed his lips to her cheek, giving a big thumbs up to the camera as she snaps the shot. He also reaches over to sign something she gives him, and Louis feels the wheels in his head turning as he watches it all go down. Who the hell is this guy? 

Seconds later, Harry's being tugged away from the counter by his mysterious men in suits, and he barely has time to reach around and wave at Paisley before a swarm of paparazzi's storm past their table, nearly knocking Paisley over in the process. She looks after them with curious eyes, her feet swinging back and forth as she dips her fingers into her whipped cream and licks the sticky substance from them, a small frown on her face. 

"Daddy, why are they following Harry?" She looks over at Louis with the biggest, roundest blue eyes, "Is it because he's on the radio?" 

Louis gives his daughter a quizzical look, and he's about to ask her what she's on about when it finally clicks. His eyes slide back over to the young boy, who's now being shielded by his security guards and led away towards his gate, a herd of paparazzi on their heels as they disappear out of sight. 

Harry Styles, the curly haired, charming fourth member of One Direction, the number one band in just about every country in the world. Louis barely recalls watching him on X Factor several years ago, back when the boy was no older than sixteen, his cheeks cherub red and chubby and his unruly head of hair still pure and untouched by Hollywood. The boys had visited a hotel just down the street from their apartment back when Paisley was just a few months old, yet the young boy clad in a pair of baggy jeans and an awkward denim button up looked nothing like the tall, well-built man that had just purchased a hot chocolate for his daughter. Louis wiped at his brow with the back of his hand and let out a huff of air. 

When the paparazzi's finally disappear, Louis could barely spot Eleanor's tall, slim frame manoeuvring through the crowd of travellers, her phone pressed to her ear with the help of her shoulder and her car keys clutched tightly in her right fist. He waves her over with a quick flick of his wrist and makes quick work of buttoning Paisley's coat back up, looping her long scarf around her small neck. She makes a quiet noise of protest and pops her bottom lip out, making Louis grin. 

"Hey! I'm so sorry it took so long, the traffic was totally crazy," Eleanor wraps a tight arm around Louis' shoulder and pulls him in for a quick hug, landing a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek. The knees of her black skinny jeans are dusted and ripped, whilst the palm of her hands is scratched up and bleeding, making Louis frown. He grabs her hands and studies them, stroking his thumbs over the soft flesh of her wrist. 

"What happened? Did you fall?" She grins at him and flips her hair quickly, bending down to hoist Paisley into her arms and lift her up, positioning the three-year-old girl safely on her hip. She kisses her cheek and noses at her temple, whispering a few words to her before turning back to Louis. 

"No, no, I'm fine, don't worry. Just a few travellers in a hurry," she winks quickly at him and sighs, "you know what they're like; always late for their flights. They never learn." Louis can't help but to roll his eyes playfully at her and smile crookedly, his fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of his suitcase. 

"I just finished a load of laundry this morning, it's all folded up on her bed and good to go, and I also placed some leftover dinners in the fridge in case you didn't have time to cook one day," his eyes scan the board as his flight pops up, signalizing that his gate is opening, "if there is anything you need, anything at all, you call me, okay?" Eleanor grins at him and sticks her tongue out playfully as he wraps them both up in a tight hug, taking a quick moment to cradle Paisley's cheek in his hand and kiss her nose, smiling softly at her. "I love you, munchkin. You're my everything." 

Her smile is blinding as she grips onto him and kisses his nose back. "You're my everything." 

He waves after them as he leaves, watching Paisley wipe at her under eyes and lean her head against Eleanor's neck, her small hand waving after him as he disappears out of sight, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. He quickly shakes it off and pulls out his passport, smiling politely at the woman behind the counter. 

Later, as his plane soared through the skies and settled comfortably at 10 600 metres, he pulled his phone out and scrolled through his pictures, placing a kiss to the one he'd taken the day Paisley was born. It showed Paisley all wrapped up in a blanket with her soft tufts of hair sticking out, her mother's smile wide and blinding as she'd reluctantly agreed to a picture only a few minutes after Paisley had arrived, a few minutes before her eyes had rolled back into her skull and her lifeline went completely dead. Louis willed the thoughts away and pocketed his phone again, falling asleep a few minutes later.


	3. Sparkles and Cocktails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this update totally isn't delayed at all. I can't update for shit, I'm fucking sorry, please enjoy <3

A scratchy, overly Americanized female voice boomed across the speaker system at JFK International Airport as Louis made his way through the crowded airport, body basically carrying itself over to pick up his luggage. His phone was pressed tightly to his ear as he hitched his backpack onto his left shoulder and manoeuvred through the oversized group of Asian tourists ahead of him, his shoulder supporting the device as he spoke hurriedly into it. 

"Yes, yes- I know, Dolores! I'm so sorry I'm late, okay, but my flight got delayed and we had to stop to tank unexpectedly in Iceland, which I'm sure you know is quite a detour-" he spots the large sign above him and mentally makes a small prayer to God himself as it reads "baggage claim" in large, white letters. "I can't bloody do anything about that, can I? It's going to be fine, you have Martin's number on your work phone and he has all the minor details at hand, I already emailed him everything last week. Take a breather with me, Dory- Yeah, that's it, good. I'm picking up my baggage now, five minutes tops, and then I'll grab a taxi," he smiles softly to himself when Dolores mumbles something across the line and breaths heavily, "I know you can handle it, you're my best worker. I trust you on this, and I'll see you very soon." 

He doesn't give her much room to complain about it, just hangs up the phone and makes a quick grab for his suitcase when it comes sliding down the conveyor belt, a big, red heart drawn on with a sharpie glowing at the very front of it, with Paisley's messy block letters spelling out 'I love you' next to it. 

~ 

"Mr. Tomlinson! Oh, Mr. Tomlinson, words cannot describe!" Dolores comes running down the hall, her full body jiggling with each step, her arms reached out towards him. Her red, shiny hair was done up in a neat ballerina bun at the back of her head, and her cat eye glasses adorned with crystals on each wing as she finally reached him, delivering a lingering kiss to each of his cheeks. He can't help but to chuckle at her, wrapping an arm around her neck and squeezing her tightly. 

"Come on, Dory, don't tell me you didn't have everything under control in the first place?" he asks her in a teasing tone, pulling away slightly to pat her blouse clad shoulder and flash her a toothy smile, her bashful yet confident smirk evident as she pushed her glasses higher up on the bridge of her pointed, beak like nose, her red lips pulled tightly at the corners. She shrugs at him, shows no sign of stress, and cackles like she always does. 

"Mr. Tomlinson, I assure you, no matter how much you muck up I will always have everything pretty, perfect and pristine," her hand settles at the base of his spine to guide him towards one of the largest conference areas in the hotel, the sleek black double doors left slightly ajar. A man rushes over to pull one of them open and nod at both Dolores and Louis as they walk inside, his uniform a dark, professional red atop his crisp, white shirt. Louis gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

"Okay, so Martin and I had a look at the layout you'd drawn, and we made a few little changes," she immediately tuts at him when he stutters in weak protest, her finger coming up to rest against his lips. He looks wide eyed at her when she grabs him by the shoulders and spin him around, the huge room covered in rounded tables with clean white, linen tablecloths, chairs covered in layer of dusty pink silk sheets with a dusting of Swarovski crystals along the hem. The stage up front was in the making, three men working on hauling a massive set of speakers into the right corner, whilst two other men worked on covering the bar with hanging lights, the old wood gleaming with fresh polish. He can't help but run his fingers over it, turn around to land a big kiss onto Dolores' cheek and pat her back, his shoulder immediately relaxing at the sight of the beautiful room. "With such an impeccable taste as my own, I assumed it would be no issue." 

Martin saunters in then, blueprints in hand and a wide smile on his stubbled face, his bright blue eyes gleaming as the stage managers tests out the lights. Spotlights are lowered from the ceilings and angled towards the stage, erupting in beautiful colours, and Louis gasps. 

"You got the lights to work! Oh, my, I knew they would look stunning," he marvels as the lights flicker in cool blue tones and white, showering the shimmering, golden stage draping in beautiful colours, and Dolores squeals along with him at the sight. "I might just leave you two in charge permanently, there is obviously no need for me anymore." 

Martin snorts and hands over the prints, straightening out his navy blazer and pushing aside his gelled fringe. "This launch party would be nowhere without you, Mr. Tomlinson." 

Louis turned and smiled, let his eyes roam over the stunning room before leaning an elbow against the bar, bribing the bar lady with a tenner to hand him over a glass of whiskey. He sipped it by himself, keeping a close eye as the stage was finished up and the florists started lining up their creations on the tables, a smile on his face the entire time. 

~ 

The heat inside their shared limousine was suffocating as they pulled up to the family owned Stranton Hotel, ran and funded by the Stranton family themselves, whom were present at the event as Harry stepped out of the vehicle, followed by Liam, Niall and lastly Zayn. The cameras around them flashed wildly, numerous paparazzi's pressing against the fences as they made their way across the red carpet, large smiles plastered onto their faces. Harry was the first one to reach Nicholas Stranton, the shortest and widest man in the small family, his elderly face wrinkled into a smile as he shook Harry's hand tightly, the crown of hair stretching around his head smoothed back with a stiff hair gel, his round body clad in a tight, black smoking. 

"Hello, boys! Welcome to our beautiful hotel," he mused, using his other hand to pat Harry's forearm before letting go, quickly grabbing a hold of Liam's hand and shaking just as tightly, "enjoy your evening, all expenses covered by us. Treat yourselves!" 

Harry found himself emigrating towards the entrance, the blinding lights from pap cams still going strong. 

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and pulled him back, Niall's blonde fringe tickling against his temple as they enter the large, marble doors, their heeled shoes clacking against the floor. 

"He's not gonna be too happy when Hollywood trashes this place for thousands of dollars," the Irishman whispers around a large grin, his fingers digging into Harry's collarbone before they're gone, opting to settle against Harry's lower back to guide him into the large conference room decorated in soft colours and crystals. Harry turns to flash him an amused grin and waves at him when he disappears towards the stage, Harry himself opting to order himself a drink at the bar and settle into one of the plush, pale pink bar stools. his onyx black pants melted against the soft seat, the shimmering stripes of glitter running down his legs settling comfortably, blending in with the sparkles surrounding him. Lights flickered around the room from the lit stage, famous faces littering the room as he took the time to look around himself, spotting Zayn in deep conversation with a few Victoria's Secret models and a movie producer. A brazen glass slides over to him, topped with a slice of bright green lime and filled with liquid dissolving within the many ice cubes, the distinct flavours of a Moscow Mule filling his mouth as he sips it slowly. More people flow in through the doors. 

"Mate, do you ever cut that bird's nest on your head? My lord." 

Harry can't help but to grin to himself as Cara slides her arms around his neck and lands a soft kiss to his cheek, her tanned skin smelling faintly of peaches as she pulls him into a hug. His hand lands respectively at the dip of her narrow waist as he returns the embrace, his face tucked against her bared neck, dirty blonde hair whisked away into a high, shiny ponytail at the apex of her head. She smiles at him and slides onto the chair next to him, ordering herself a drink as Harry sips his own. "I haven't seen you at one of these for ages, where 'ave you been, Styles? Quiet without your big mouth," she muses, left elbow perched up on the bar top as she watches him with interest, large eyes smoked out with black, matte shadow. Her feathered, thick brows had small specks of glitter in them that matched the lines of sparkles dusted across her chest and shoulders, a small, black tube top stretching across her chest. Through the thin, cotton fabric, the outline of her nipples pushed against the fabric, and Harry quickly looked away in favour of sipping his drink again. "Don't tell me a bird tied you down, finally." 

He barks out a laugh at her remark and shakes his head slowly, ringlets of curls escaping the tight Dutch braids Lou had insisted he wear for the event, the intricate ponytails curling at the base of his neck and nearly disappearing behind the collar of his white, translucent shirt. He reached out and patted her hand, not hesitating to quickly lace their fingers together and squeeze her hand softly. "I missed you, Car." 

Just as she's about to respond, all the light dim, and across the room a figure walks on stage, a powder pink dress with a long, sparkly train trailing behind her as she saunters on stage with a grace unlike anyone Harry had ever laid eyes on. Silver flowers were imbraided into the soft organza that was fitted around her lithe body, the deep scoop neckline showing off her tanned chest. Long chestnut curls cascaded down her back as she stepped up to the podium and smiled at the audience, the lines in her face accentuating her apparent age, yet the soft glow of her cheeks and the radiance emitting from her making Harry smile to himself as he took in the beauty of Diane von Furstenberg herself. With nimble fingers, she adjusted the height of the microphone, dark brown eyes scanning the room. 

"My daughter insisted that I begin my speech by thanking you all for coming tonight, but before I do so I have to compliment you all on your beautiful creations. Sparkle is a great look on you," she smiles carefully as the whole room huffs out soft murmurs and laughs, her accent shining through as she flips a page over and scans it quickly, licking her lips. "Before I designed this collection, I had a dream about my life, how this all turned out..." 

Harry finds his attention slipping as she proceeds to talk about her inspiration, eyes flitting around the room as he takes in the crowd around him, all dressed to perfection in signature Diane von Furstenberg items. Cara leans in from behind and hooks her chin over his shoulder, lips tickling at his ear as she speaks in a hushed voice, "is everything okay with you, H? You're not yourself." 

It's so quiet he has to really focus on the low hum of her voice to catch the words she's murmuring, specks of her bright pink lipstick staining the shell of his ear. He doesn't really know how to answer, can’t seem to put his words together into somewhat of a response, so he opts for keeping quiet, unconsciously leaning into her touch. She smells strongly of perfume, a spicy, mature scent dabbed onto the pulse points at her neck and wrists, and his nostrils flare slowly as he breathes her in. 

“I’m fine, Car, promise. It's just been really hectic,” he murmurs, shifting in his seat so that they’re face to face, dimples lining his shaven cheeks. “I mean, being such a good-looking popstar has its downsides.” 

Her eyebrows nearly fly off her face as they raise in surprise, and moments later they’re both doubling over in muffled laughter, a few security guards shooting warning looks at them before turning back to the stage. Cara lifts her drink and quickly gulps down the last few drops, lacing her manicured fingers through Harry’s to pull him out of his seat, heading towards the backdoors that lead into the indoor garden area at the back of the hotel. He stumbled along, sipped his still half full drink as they manoeuvred through the crowds, and when they finally made it through the large, black doors guarded by two more security guard, Cara didn’t hesitate to pull him closer. Her breathing was soft against his cheek, small puffs of air dancing across his jaw as she keeps a hand tight at his waist, her lips barely grazing skin as he gulps down his drink in three large sips, setting the cup aside. Her eyes glowed under the moonlight shining through the glass roofs, lined by black kohl liner and thick, spidery mascara along her bottom lashes. He leans in, presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, licks up the small specks of alcohol along her cupid's bow, and that seems to be enough for her to grab the back of his neck and pull him down, slotting their lips together. It was hurried, rough, her nails digging into the soft skin above his hips whilst his arms landed at each side of her head, caging her against the wall. His breathing was loud as she pulled back, kept their lips barely slotted together as she tickles her fingers across his lower back, resting at the waistband of his pants. 

“I mean it, H. Are you sure everything’s alright?” she whispers, pushing their mouths together in yet another heated kiss, allows him to lick across her sticky lips, moaning quietly against him as one of his hands bends to rest at her ribcage, just beneath the sinfully tiny top that barely covered anything. “Is it because of Kendall? I never thought it was all that serious, I-” 

He cuts her off with another kiss, slides two nimble fingers into her top to rub across the hardened flesh of her nipple, and she nearly melts into his hold, allowing his strong arm to hold her around her waist as he carries her with him further into the garden area, mouths never breaking apart. 

“I already told you everything’s good, so let’s just leave it, yeah? I don’t wanna think about her right now,” he mumbles, the deep tone of his voice making her shiver slightly as he finds a spot for them that is completely surrounded by bushes, a fountain splashing water just below them. The wooden bench behind them seemed so conveniently placed as he lays her down on it, slots his legs between hers and takes in the sight of her. She reaches up to rub across the glitter sparkling across his cheekbone. 

“I’m not saying you have to talk right now, I’m just letting you know that I'm here, yeah?” she tilts her head aside as he starts pressing kisses to her slim, tanned neck, pillowy lips dragging deliciously across her warm skin. “you’re one of my closest friends, H, I don’t want you hurting.” 

“Then stop talking about her, Car,” he shoots back, sitting back on his knees as he looks down at her, the moon creating shadows around the softened features of his face. “If you care so fucking much, don’t wait two months to talk to me about it. It's too bloody late now.” 

She doesn’t have time to answer him before he’s getting up and making his way back to the party, hands swiftly rolling up the sleeves of his top. She sits there for a few seconds, surprised, before she runs after him, avoiding the small indoor pool area by an inch. 

“Harry, wait!” her heels click loudly against the stone floors as she catches up with him, watching him button up a few buttons on his shirt and rub at his mouth with the back of his hand, the bright pink staining his cheeks and chin. She grabs onto his arm and gives him a soft smile, the gesture not returned. 

“Let me help you with that,” she protests, licking her thumb before rubbing at the smeared wax they had managed to get everywhere, scraping some of it away with her black, sparkly nails and wiping it on the wall, straightening out his collar and brushing her fingers through his small, curly baby hairs. “If the paparazzi’s see that they’re gonna go mental, you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

He stares at her, leans down quickly to press a kiss to her cheek, and then he’s gone. 

~ 

Louis finds himself gravitating back and forth between the stage area and the bar, ordering himself the occasional drink whilst mingling with the celebs surrounding him, accepting a kiss to the cheek and a ‘thank you’ from Diane herself, keeping each conversation as neutral as he can manage. At one point he loses complete track of himself, and as he turns to look for Dolores and Martin for a brief status update, only to find the bar completely overcrowded without any of his assistants in sight. 

However, instead he witnesses a visibly tousled Harry Styles stumble through the crowd, elbowing his way past a group of people to get to the bar, ordering himself a drink before sinking into a chair, leaning his forehead against the cool surface. Louis watches him for a few seconds, watches the sparkles across his cheeks and his artistic braids, and when he sips his drink again the young boy lifts his head, searches across the crowd until their eyes meet and gives a surprised smile, tilting his head in wonder. Louis smiles back, watches the bartender deliver Harry’s drink to him, and from across the room they share a brief toast, sipping their respective drink before Louis goes hunting for his assistants, leaving Harry by himself to finish the rest of his cocktail.


End file.
